


let me love you to death

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Candles, Demon Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: Reeve walked farther into his shared home, catching the hint of flickering lights in his study. He raised a brow and peeked his head in. Candles. And a very naked, very sublime Chaos.





	let me love you to death

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I don’t know what to tell you. Demon dick awaits you if you read this. Also, read the tags. You’re welcome.

Reeve walked in the front door to total darkness, which wasn’t exactly an indication of anything, but he felt a strange heaviness in the air. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the side of the door and walked cautiously forward. Vincent had been acting strange lately: secretive, quieter than he thought was even possible—him being a naturally very quiet and somber person, letting Reeve do the talking—and trembling in the night against Reeve. He knew something was bothering Vincent, but he let him have his space while he dealt with it. After all, Vincent’s consciousness wasn’t the only thing inhabiting his body. There were monsters. And ghosts. And heinous trauma he wished he could take on for him. Vincent shouldered all of it so well, Reeve thought. If it were him, he’d have gone stark raving mad eons ago.

Reeve walked farther into his shared home, catching the hint of flickering lights in his study. He raised a brow and peeked his head in. Candles. And a very naked, very _sublime _Chaos. It hurt to look at him like this, he was so magnificent. His long legs were crossed and out of the armored boots his feet were clawed. His hair—if it could be called hair—was around his head like a dark halo. His face, pale and lined with cracks that looked deep set in the dramatic shadows, shone in the candlelight, looking hungry. Reeve knew what he was hungry for. Souls.

“Chaos,” Reeve said, stepping into the room. His burning yellow eyes trained on Reeve’s, a smile tugging his lips upward. It was a cruel smile, and so terrible and beautiful all at once. The fact that Chaos looked more or less like a demonic Vincent always make Reeve’s blood boil. But Chaos was not Vincent—Vincent was merely his host.

“_I’ve come to play, little human_,” Chaos sing-songed. His voice was like the melding of three different ones laid over one another, a hint of a language unknown coursing underneath like a roiling wave. It was ageless, deep, dark, dangerous, and Reeve always felt his heart hammer against his chest when he heard it for reasons beyond fear. It was Vincent’s voice and yet it wasn’t. When Reeve asked once why Chaos chose to manifest more or less like his host, Chaos had simply said, “I find him pretty, and so, little human, do you.” Chaos liked to fluster Reeve. He must get off on it, he’d concluded long ago.

“What happened this time?” Reeve asked, sighing. Last time, Vincent had had a nightmare. The time before that, Vincent hadn’t eaten in three days, and now? Well, he’d find out.

“_When you’re immortal and your host is fucking an insignificant human, you get bored_,” Chaos said, shrugging. The action made his leathery wings twitch. Reeve wasn’t offended. Chaos _was _a divine being after all and if he didn’t get some amusement in toying with Reeve, he would have killed him years ago just to watch Vincent suffer. He still might. As if reading his thoughts—he always wondered if Chaos _could—_Chaos laughed. “_I’ll kill you in the morning_.”

Reeve had heard that before.

“You just want to hear me plead for my life.”

“_Oh, yes_,” Chaos hissed, looking like a pleased overgrown cat with his eyes slit like half-moons, their edges a black inky stain.

“Why the candles?” Reeve gestured. There were at least twenty of varying sizes. It was ridiculous. Where did he get them? Did they just manifest? Why was he thinking about this so much?

“_You do so like the mood, human. I can tell. Your heart is beating _very _fast. I can taste your fear and excitement. It is delicious_.” The fact that he liked it when Chaos “played” with him was beside the point. Or maybe it _was _the point. He couldn’t tell anymore. He had learned over the years to accept everything Vincent offered, even Chaos. “_Come. Lay at my feet_.”

Reeve did as bidden, kneeling at Chaos’s feet. The demon placed one clawed foot on the seam of Reeve’s pants. He pressed it in.

“_Get yourself off_,” Chaos instructed.

“Like this?” Reeve breathed, pressing against that foot and rutting forward against it. He realized he was hard as soon as he had knelt. He chose not to examine why. “It will be messy. And embarrassing.”

“_Oh, yes_,” the demon hissed.

It didn’t take long. Reeve was panting in the aftermath. Chaos moved his foot and purred, again like a pleased cat, the rumble going straight to Reeve’s limp cock, making it twitch. If he had been a younger man, he might have gotten hard again, but he was almost forty. Still, when Chaos stood and grabbed Reeve by the hair, hauling him to his feet and shoving him against the desk, his heart hammered in his chest and he found that he might come again if Chaos meant to fuck him.

Which he clearly did.

Chaos moved the candles ever so slightly, mindful that he might burn the house down. How thoughtful. For a demon. He yanked Reeve’s pants down and, without lube, bent Reeve over the desk and pressed inside him with one thrust. Chaos was bigger than Vincent, but his cock could lubricate itself, and when he was situated within Reeve, the bulb at the end of his demonic dark-skinned cock swelled. Reeve felt so full that he could place his hand over his lower stomach and _feel _Chaos’s cock against his belly as if it sought to impale him, which, all things considered, might be a fitting death for a human who flirted with literal and figurative death.

Reeve found himself panting and breathless all over again as the desk rattled against the wall and the floor. Chaos was not gentle like Vincent was. Chaos wanted Reeve to weep and scream. And when he moved inside him, Reeve _did _scream.

Chaos slammed his hips against Reeve relentlessly, snarling in his ear, twisting Reeve’s hair.

When Chaos came, it poured inside Reeve, burning hot and so good that Reeve came with him. The demon chuckled.

“_You like that_,” Chaos whispered. “_Tell Vincent you like to play rough, little human_.”

“He’d never . . .”

“_Pity_.”

And then the demon let him go and Vincent’s smaller form was left shuddering against Reeve’s. Reeve grabbed the throw that he sometimes used to wrap around himself as he worked when there was a chill coming through the window and wrapped it around Vincent’s nakedness. He pointedly did _not _look. Vincent had never allowed him to see him. Just parts. Never the whole. Mostly the tops of his thighs, his pants pulled down around them. Even there he was vivisected by scars, which always made Reeve wish he could resurrect Professor Hojo just so he could kill him all over again. Slowly. Painfully.

Vincent slumped against Reeve, apparently unconscious. The change in form always exhausted him. Reeve, his body exhausted and hurting from Chaos’s treatment and lack of after care, still took the time to blow out all the candles, pull his pants back up, and carry Vincent to his room, then he undressed and showered, hissing when he cleaned his raw backside. Still, he was pretty happy for a man who just got fucked by a demon. It wasn’t the first time. He went to go cook a modest meal. He wasn’t as good a cook as Vincent, but it would have to do.

Reeve shook his head and laughed as he took the ingredients out.

“You’re going to love me to death, Vincent, but it’s worth it for you,” he sighed.


End file.
